Unexpected Connections
by Vicki Vance
Summary: An enemy from a generation back plans revenge on Qui-Gon. Yet another vicious enemy, Aurra Sing, is nipping at their heels. How can Qui-Gon fight two deadly enemies at once? Ever-so-slightly AU because of Aurra Sing.


UNEXPECTED CONNECTIONS  
by Vicki Vance  
An enemy from a generation back plans revenge on Qui-Gon. Yet another vicious enemy, Aurra Sing, is nipping at their heels. How can Qui-Gon fight two deadly enemies at once? Ever-so-slightly AU because of Aurra Sing.  
Rated PG-13 for themes and one itty-bitty bad word.  
6-8 years before TPM. Exact time doesn't matter.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. I am making no money off of this.  
Author's Notes: Although it isn't clearly stated, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan start off on a planet on a mission. The planet doesn't matter to the story, and I hardly mention it all, so don't feel you should know which one it is, what they are doing there, etc. This story is not concerned with the present. It is concerned with the past.  
  
  
Being able to stand up is a simple task to ask of one's body. One just needs the strength and balance and one can stand as easily as speaking.  
  
The first clue Qui-Gon received that told him Obi-Wan wasn't all right was the fact that he had fallen down. He stopped and turned to see if he'd merely lost his balance or if something was wrong. Obi-Wan was holding himself a few centimeters off the ground and he stared up at Qui-Gon, eyes round with shock.  
  
"Obi-Wan-" Qui-Gon said and Obi-Wan pitched forward onto the pavement. There was a blaster burn in his back by his shoulder. Blood was oozing from the wound.  
  
Qui-Gon swept out with the Force and suddenly felt the warning that had successfully hid itself from him and Obi-Wan. On the roof of the building they were near a shadow loomed, bearing a sniper rifle. It stood and disappeared into the night. Qui-Gon frowned. The sniper's shape was feminine.  
  
He went over to Obi-Wan and gently rolled him over. The teen gasped for air and grabbed his Master's arm.  
  
"Stay still," he told him. "It doesn't look good and I can't have you making it worse."  
  
Obi-Wan panted softly, choked, and coughed. Blood dribbled from his mouth. Qui-Gon's heart sank. The wound went down to his lung. It wasn't good at all.  
  
"Hang on," Qui-Gon said as he poured bacta into the wound and pushed a gauze against it. "Just hang on, Obi-Wan. You're strong. You can do it."  
  
Qui-Gon spared a hand to retrieve the comlink from his belt. He keyed in the emergency number with his thumb. The comlink made no dialing tones. It was dead.  
  
Beneath him, Obi-Wan cried out in pain.  
  
"I'm taking you out of here." Qui-Gon said.  
  
He picked him up, felt him sag in his arms, and ran through the alleyways like a fluttering shadow in search of a safe haven for himself and Obi-Wan.  
  
  
Qui-Gon slipped outside the small wooden cabin to wash his hands in the stream that flowed beside it. Obi-Wan's blood peeled away from his hands and streaked through the river like red ink. He wiped his hands dry on his pant legs and stood up in the night. He opened his mind and searched for the sniper and found nothing. All was peaceful, quiet and dark. The stars twinkled in the night sky and the triple moons cast surprisingly bright blue light on the dead leaves on the ground and caught on the ripples of the water. The forest stood tall and defensive around him, shielding him from all the evil of the entire galaxy. The scent of sweet wood mixed with the mossy aroma of the cabin wafted through the area like the gentle swells in a calm sea.  
  
It was a lovely setting, but Qui-Gon had to leave it to tend to Obi-Wan. He would have liked to meditate there in the midst of the peace and calm, but he would have liked much more for Obi-Wan to survive the night.  
  
He opened the wooden door, which swung on hinges, and closed it. It was a single room cabin, abandoned for quite a long time. There was a fireplace to the right and Qui-Gon had put his glowrods there because it seemed fitting to him. To the left there was an old bed with cushions made from a substance Qui-Gon didn't recognize. Directly across from the door was a window that let in some of the silvery moonlight.  
  
Qui-Gon heard Obi-Wan's quiet breathing in the dark and slid silently to his bedside. Once he'd found the cabin, he'd laid Obi-Wan down and used the Force to stop the bleeding and repair the major damage. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan had lost a lot of blood and had been choking on the blood in his lung and Qui-Gon needed to be with him for quite a while to make certain he didn't stop breathing. He had long since lost consciousness and Qui-Gon let him rest.  
  
After his student had been stabilized, he went about in ways to make him comfortable. He took off his boots, utility belt, and bloodied outer cloak. He'd draped his own outer cloak over him to keep him warm and adjusted the flattened old pillow under his head. He'd just realized he was dirtying everything he touched with Obi-Wan's blood when he'd gone outside to wash his hands.  
  
Obi-Wan's pulse was rapid and steady. His temperature had gone down a little bit and his pupils were dilated. He didn't respond as Qui-Gon examined him. Qui-Gon wasn't very worried. He knew it could have been a lot worse; a lot messier, with no hope of recovery for Obi-Wan.  
  
Obi-Wan's hand twitched and he made a little grunting sound, but he slept on. Qui-Gon touched his forehead, sending soothing thoughts of calm and healing as he dreamed. He listened to Obi-Wan breathe for a few moments before seating himself on the bed near his student. He closed his eyes and slipped in a meditative state of mind, technically sleeping but aware of his surroundings.  
  
He shook off the sleep of the sitting eight hours later. It was still dark outside. The planet he stood on stood spun slowly on its axis; day and night lasted thirty-seven hours. Night was dangerous and few people with good intentions ventured out. Qui-Gon suspected that had been their first mistake. He also suspected some one wanted either he or Obi-Wan dead and a nighttime stroll was welcoming trouble.  
  
Obi-Wan had stirred a few times during the time Qui-Gon rested. He pulled his cloak back up to his chin again and went to the fireplace where his glowrod still burned brightly. He pulled out a freeze-dried packet of vitamin-packed rations and ripped open the seal. He ate the serving and opened another for Obi-Wan. He lit a second glowrod and carried it over to Obi-Wan's bed.  
  
He rested his hand on Obi-Wan's forehead and gently woke his mind with the Force. Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered open and he looked up at Qui-Gon dizzily. His body still hadn't replenished his blood supply and Qui-Gon had been expecting him to be confused and slow of mind.  
  
"You're safe," Qui-Gon told him right away. "You've been shot but I've taken care of it. We're hiding in an old cabin until sunrise. It'll be safe to go out then."  
  
"It hurts," Obi-Wan moaned.  
  
"I know, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon assured him. "You just need to rest and you'll feel back up to speed in just a little while."  
  
"It's hard to breathe," his student informed him and despite the ominous news, he seemed quite brave about it.  
  
Qui-Gon nodded. "I know. Do you think you can eat some food? It'll help your body recover."  
  
Obi-Wan chewed on two bites of the rations and then shook his head when Qui-Gon offered more.  
  
"I'm not really hungry," he protested, closing his eyes. In mere seconds his breathing had softened and he'd fallen asleep.  
  
  
At long last, morning rays spilled into the room. Qui-Gon opened his eyes and looked out the window. The forest was bright and open with a good, well-rested feeling. He looked at Obi-Wan and saw he hadn't moved at all while he slept. Qui-Gon got up and collected his items, pocketing them in his tunic. He put Obi-Wan's boots and utility belt back on him and carefully picked him up. His student moaned softly and stirred.  
  
"You're going to be fine," Qui-Gon assured him. "We're going to a hospital."  
  
Qui-Gon put his back against the door and pushed it open, stepping out into the clearing. He suddenly stopped when he saw the woman in black.  
  
For several seconds they just stared at each other. Qui-Gon was calculating wildly his chances of getting back into the cabin without letting himself or Obi-Wan be shot by her. She leveled a heavy blaster pistol in one hand, a small blaster in the other and a long sniper's rifle was slung over her back. She was draped in black and her head was hooded. She looked slightly out of place in the sunshine but still very dangerous.  
  
Finally deciding he couldn't possibly get away, Qui-Gon asked catiously, "What do you want?"  
  
"I will be the one asking the questions," she said crisply. She had a voice like obsidian. "Are you not a Jedi?"  
  
Qui-Gon nodded. "I am."  
  
Her red lips curled slightly. "Are you not Qui-Gon Jinn of the Jedi Knights?"  
  
"I am."  
  
"And he?" she asked, her eyes flicking at Obi-Wan.  
  
"My Padawan learner Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said. "Why did you shoot him?"  
  
"I ask the questions," she said and she fired her blaster. The shot barely missed his right arm, the one supporting Obi-Wan's head.  
  
"Where I come from," she said darkly. "Children are allocated one light reprimand. I will not miss the next time."  
  
Qui-Gon silenced and pulled Obi-Wan a little closer against him.  
  
"Please," she said in false courtesy. "Allow me to direct you to your home for the next few days. Walk forward now."  
  
Qui-Gon walked slowly past the river, thinking quickly. He needed to wait for a perfect opportunity to escape but until then the only thought on his brain was a hope for a distraction. He tried to make sure his body was between the woman's and Obi-Wan's. If he trusted his instinct, which he always did, he knew the woman was probably taking them to her ship where she would imprison them and take them elsewhere, to the being who had set the bounty on them.  
  
Unless, there was no bounty on them, only a mark on their heads. She may take them elsewhere to have them publicly executed.  
  
Obi-Wan stirred in his arms and his eyes opened. He groped at his wound and groaned.  
  
"Keep still, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon ordered him urgently. "Go back to sleep."  
  
Normally, Obi-Wan would have obeyed Qui-Gon without question. However, there was something too sharp and laced with controlled fear in Qui-Gon's voice that made him suspicious. He frowned and twisted his head, trying to see what was going on. He saw the woman and focused hard on her.  
  
"Stay still," Qui-Gon hissed.  
  
"Who's she?" he asked, not paying him heed.  
  
"Your captor and master," she said coldly. "And don't ask questions."  
  
Obi-Wan rested his head against Qui-Gon's arm. Qui-Gon could tell from the focused look on his face that he was thinking hard.  
  
"She shot me," he said finally.  
  
"I assume so," Qui-Gon answered.  
  
"Silence!" she commanded suddenly.  
  
"Go to sleep," Qui-Gon suggested quietly. "Try not to worry about it."  
  
  
Qui-Gon lay still, breathing hard.  
  
The bounty hunter had shot him too.  
  
When they'd gotten to the ship, she'd tried to separate them by putting Obi-Wan in one cell and Qui-Gon in another. He didn't think Obi-Wan could survive by himself and begged to be with him. When he wouldn't comply with the woman's wishes, she put a hole in his thigh and then separated them.  
  
Qui-Gon focused on healing his wound so he could walk freely at a moment's notice. He knew that when the ship stopped, he might have to carry Obi-Wan again and would definitely have to heal him also. He might even be dead at that moment.  
  
He paused in his effort to heal himself and reached out with the Force. He felt the presence of the woman, her essence in the Force burning as strongly as that of a Jedi's. It was unusual. And off several meters to his left he felt the flickering glow of Obi-Wan's life. He was alive, but he wasn't doing well. Qui-Gon touched the cold wall impulsively, wishing vainly he could touch his Padawan, heal him, and keep him safe and warm.  
  
Qui-Gon drew himself away from his fatherly instinct and returned his attention to the fire in his leg, stubbornly promising himself he'd survive the ordeal, no matter who she was or what she had planned for him.  
  
  
The door opened and a blaster barrel pointed at his heart.  
  
"Get up," she said.  
  
He obeyed her, relieved his leg didn't buckled under. She observed his strength with an air of irritation and anger.  
  
"Get out," she said, backing up slightly to make room for him. He stepped out into the small hallway of the ship.  
  
"Go down the corridor to the cell of you student," she ordered. He felt something round touch his back and he knew it was the blaster. He didn't dare attempt anything because as long as his life was at stake so was Obi-Wan's. He wanted firstly to get Obi-Wan out of the cell and then maybe he'd have a go at heroics.  
  
Qui-Gon walked down the hallway and stood before the door, nerves on end with anticipation to see his student.  
  
The door opened. Qui-Gon was slightly surprised. The woman hadn't touched anything but he had felt a slight tremor in the Force when the lock undid itself. She must be Force-sensitive.  
  
He rushed in before she could order him to do anything. He found Obi-Wan in the same position he'd left him in: on his back with two cloaks wrapped around him to keep him warm. His face was pale and drawn and his breathing was strained.  
  
Qui-Gon touched his forehead and woke him with the Force. His eyes fluttered open and his slightly glazed eyes met Qui-Gon's.  
  
"Master," he said. His voice was as soft as his breath.  
  
"Try not to speak," Qui-Gon told him, gently examining the wound.  
  
"Pick him up," the woman ordered from behind. "You will follow me."  
  
Qui-Gon wordlessly hauled Obi-Wan up from the cold floor. He sensed intense relief in Obi-Wan to be back in close contact with his beloved Master. His hand held onto the folds of Qui-Gon's tunic and he snuggled his face against his arm, his eyes closing with contentment. Once again, as he often was, Qui-Gon was amazed by Obi-Wan's love and loyalty towards his Master.  
  
Qui-Gon shuffled out of the cell and towards the illuminated rampway. He looked out and was impressed. Before him lay a very green field of knee-high grasses. In the distance was an ancient crumbling stone castle, most likely millenia old. The sun shone down mildly through a nearly cloudless blue sky. Standing in the grasses waiting for him stood the woman, this time not seeming all that out of place in the bright loveliness. She looked rather at home and comfortable on this new planet  
  
"Follow," she said, turning off and starting at a quick pace towards the castle. Qui-Gon followed, trying to guess what she had in store for them. They approached the castle from what looked like its back entrance, but they had to go through the tombstone-peppered graveyard.  
  
The woman stopped. Qui-Gon held his breath.  
  
"Kneel down," she ordered, gesturing with her blaster. Slowly, expecting to get shot at any moment, he went down to his knees, half-laying Obi-Wan on the ground.  
  
"Do not move," she said. Then, she did something surprising. She turned her back on them and walked up towards the castle. Before she was out of eyesight she stopped and knelt down herself beside a tombstone.  
  
Qui-Gon reached out with his senses, attempting to locate any possible danger. He sensed, apart from the presence of the woman, nearly nothing.  
  
Nearly.  
  
There was city or village nearby. Qui-Gon could sense the tingling of several life-forms far away grouped together. If he were to escape, he'd have to go there.  
  
But not yet.  
  
He instead used the time to examine Obi-Wan. He was healing, but slowly. His eyes opened and he frowned inquiringly around him.  
  
"We've landed on a planet I don't recognize," Qui-Gon whispered to him. "We've stopped in what seems to be an ancient cemetery and I think the woman is praying by one of the graves."  
  
"Do you think," Obi-Wan said slowly and softly. "She'll bury us here?"  
  
"I don't know what she'll do to us yet," he answered. "But she hasn't killed us yet."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Don't speak anymore, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon ordered. "I don't want you to get excited."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded slightly and relaxed in the grass as Qui-Gon funneled the Force into him, helping him recover.  
  
"Qui-Gon Jinn," the woman called to him. "Step forward. Leave the boy there."  
  
Qui-Gon gently and with great foreboding lay Obi-Wan in the grass. He stood slowly and walked forward, uncertain of what he was about to face. He stopped just out of striking distance of the woman. She was standing protectively beside a tombstone, leveling a blaster at him.  
  
"Kneel," she ordered. He did.  
  
She pulled back her hood and beautiful iridescent blonde hair lined her face and streamed around her shoulders. He recognized that beautiful hair. A woman, long ago...  
  
"Pay respects to my mother," the woman said. "The woman you murdered."  
  
Aerial Fairweather.  
  
Memories of the woman came rushing back to Qui-Gon. When he had been declared a Jedi Knight one of his first solo missions was to negotiate peace between two warring nations, Crystal Lakes and Avtone. The woman who had managed to keep the worst fighting from taking place was Aerial Fairweather. Although she was from Crystal Lakes, she preferred to remain neutral and threatened to fast until the fighting stopped.  
  
Qui-Gon easily befriended her and not just because of similar interests; she had been an exotically beautiful woman. Qui-Gon made plans to travel with her to one of the battle fields and threaten the troops with fasting.  
  
The stalemate lasted two weeks, during which Aerial and Qui-Gon fasted.  
  
She had been a luscious woman, with a perfectly proportioned body and light, flowing, sparkling hair. Eyes bluer than the deepest lake from which she lived, face smoother than a stone pounded by the sea.  
  
The stalemate ended when it was rumored that Aerial had died, when she had in fact not. Much to Qui-Gon's surprise and deep dismay, the troops began to fight. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. They hadn't fought in respect for Aerial's life but as soon as they thought she was dead they felt no grievance. They hadn't cared for her. They had wanted to slaughter the enemy and if a single woman decided to let herself die it wasn't their fault.  
  
Qui-Gon told Aerial the news on that fateful morning. Weak and bed-ridden by the fasting, she wasted her dwindling energy on tears while Qui-Gon held her. She died later that night and Qui-Gon returned to the Jedi Temple, failing that particular mission.  
  
Qui-Gon looked up at the woman and saw Aerial's face once again, as if no time had passed.  
  
"I didn't know Aerial had a daughter," he said.  
  
"She had a husband before she met you," she said. "He was from Avtone. She was from Crystal Lakes. Forbidden love prospers the most. They had me and my brother. My father and brother were killed by those of Crystal Lakes. My mother was alienated and thus assumed the position of a neutral pacifist."  
  
It was the most Qui-Gon had heard out of the woman. She had probably become alienated herself and had no one to talk to. She'd wanted to say this for a long time but couldn't until now.  
  
"I didn't kill her," Qui-Gon said.  
  
"Liar!" she spat, smacking his face with the butt of her sniper rifle. "You told her there was fighting. She was weak already from fasting. She couldn't take it. You delivered the killing blow."  
  
"I never touched her," Qui-Gon said. "You are speaking of the physical action of murder-"  
  
"You allowed her death, you scum!" she snapped.  
  
"I stayed with her until she died," Qui-Gon said defensively. "I urged her to eat, but she wouldn't. She was a brave woman-"  
  
"You shall speak not of my mother!" she cried. "You did not know her!"  
  
"I would have married her," Qui-Gon said. "I loved her and I was hurt deeply when she passed away."  
  
"Silence!" she ordered, hitting him again, harder this time. He tasted blood in his mouth. Her lips trembled with anger. He kept his head cast downward to avoid getting struck.  
  
"Pay... respects," she said at last, struggling to keep control.  
  
Qui-Gon read the tombstone. *Aerial Fairweather 6721.09mn-6724.78mn Let Peace Flow.* He touched the earth, petted it, knowing that down below she lay there, at least her bones.  
  
*Did I truly kill you?* he asked silently. *Did I push you into death? I would never have done it intentionally. I loved you. You were so much I wasn't. How can I redeem myself?*  
  
He looked up his old love's daughter. She was watching him with heartless eyes.  
  
"What is your name?" he dared to ask.  
  
She paused a moment, slightly taken aback by the question.  
  
"Marion," she said.  
  
"A name fitting for a Fairweather," he commented.  
  
She didn't look at him when she said, "Stand."  
  
He did and didn't disobey her when she made him go back to Obi-Wan. He took a moment to check him and his heart sank. He was no longer stable. The blood that had filled his lung was literally choking him from the inside. He would die unless he received professional help within a day or so. He had to do something soon or lose his student.  
  
"He needs to see a doctor," Qui-Gon told her as he took the boy in his arms.  
  
"Too bad for him," Marion said coolly "Now you know what it's like to lose a loved one."  
  
"Aerial was a loved one to me," Qui-Gon said softly.  
  
"Silence!"  
  
Qui-Gon knew they'd be separated once they got into the ship and Obi-Wan would die alone. He knew he'd have to avoid getting onto the ship at all costs. And at the moment, only one plan seemed to work.  
  
He unexpectedly sunk to his knees, clutching Obi-Wan and saying his name. The Padawan had lapsed into unconsciousness and didn't respond to Qui-Gon. The look was very effective.  
  
"Stand up," Marion said, a bit irritably.  
  
"No..." Qui-Gon said, not in defiance, but in a voice as if his heart had just been crushed.  
  
"I said, stand up," Marion said again.  
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whimpered and cradled the boy against his chest. He sensed Marion falter.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"He's dead," he moaned, rocking his living student.  
  
Marion hesitated. As Qui-Gon had thought, she hadn't been expected this. He took full advantage of this and reached for the Force. He *pulled* and she fell flat on her face into the dirt. As she tried to get up his fist swung out and connected with her skull. She slumped forward, unmoving.  
  
He put Obi-Wan aside and slung Marion over his shoulder. He took her inside the ship and put her in one of her cells, closed the door and locked it. He wasn't worried that she'd die in there; she had minor Force ability.  
  
He looted the ship in search for medical supplies. He filled a backpack with food, water and medicine and slung it over his shoulders. After treating his Padawan with a fresh dose of bacta, he picked up Obi-Wan and ventured out into the nearby marshlands.  
  
  
Obi-Wan looked healthier than he had in days. He slept deeply, his curled hand resting on his chest accenting the rise and fall of his chest.  
  
Qui-Gon left his bedside and silently exited his room. The doctor was waiting outside, skimming over Obi-Wan's medical records.  
  
"Dear me," he said. "This boy has taken quite a few beatings."  
  
"All part of being a Jedi," Qui-Gon said. "You should see my records."  
  
"Well, I think he'll be fine," he continued. "We've taken pretty good care of him and he's taken pretty good care of himself. Besides, some of that Jedi healing will only do him good."  
  
"I can't right now," Qui-Gon said, rubbing his forehead "I need to get some rest myself. I'll be back in eight hours or so. I plan to stay at the hotel in the hospital here. I'll leave my name and number at the front desk."  
  
"Very well," the doctor said. "And do not worry, Jedi Sir, security here is the highest quality. No one gets in unless they are welcomed."  
  
  
"Kidnapped?"  
  
"Yes," the doctor said, breathless and nervous as security officials rushed around behind him. "But it wasn't the blonde woman you described. Security cameras witnessed a humanoid woman who wore red and had skin pale as moonlight."  
  
Qui-Gon thought he knew who he was talking about and prayed he was wrong.  
  
"We have security forces searching for her," the doctor assured him, seeing how worried Qui-Gon was.  
  
"There'll be no need for that," Qui-Gon said. The hunter when hunted was always elusive. The hunter when hunting was always successful. "She'll find us."  
  
She did.  
  
Hours later Qui-Gon's new comlink buzzed. He answered.  
  
"Hello Qui-Gon Jinn," came a cold, feminine voice. It was not Marion.  
  
"Hello Aurra Sing," Qui-Gon answered smoothly. In truth, he was nervous for Obi-Wan's safety.  
  
"You listen well and your Padawan might survive," she said brusquely.  
  
"Fine by me."  
  
"Fairweather thought hurting the boy might avenge her mother. She was wrong. And she failed. Now I've succeeded where she has not. Here's what will happen. I will sell the boy to you for ten thousand credits. That's more than twice what she can offer."  
  
"I need to know he's alive," Qui-Gon said. "A dead Padawan isn't worth buying."  
  
"You're smart, Jinn," she said praiselessly. "Here he is," There was a brief pause, the crackle of a shifting comlink and then Obi-Wan said, "No, Master! She's goi-"  
  
"That's enough," he heard Aurra say. The sound of a fist connecting with a jaw came clearly through the comlink transmission. Obi-Wan grunted and whimpered. "Now listen. Be at the Ridgeway Rail Transit Station in eight hours. Alone. You'll have his body by then. Alive or dead is up to you."  
  
"Wait," Qui-Gon said before she could hang up. "Why are you doing this? Why didn't you help Marion? You have similar interests..."  
  
There was a delibertae pause and as Qui-Gon was beginning to worry if she had ceased communication he heard her say, "She reminds of me. Only she's not me."  
  
"Maybe you as a child?" Qui-Gon implied, trying to reach the woman's heart. The comlink clicked, the line broken. Qui-Gon sighed. Maybe she didn't have one.  
  
  
Obi-Wan didn't look up at his captor. He didn't want to encourage her. He knew he was still recovering from getting shot and shouldn't be taking the beatings. He knew that most women were gentle and mild. But he knew that this was no ordinary woman. This was Aurra Sing, fallen Jedi and renegade bounty hunter, and far more dangerous than Marion could ever be.  
  
"I've just spoken to your Master," she said, cracking her knuckles. "It appears you will be going home. In pieces, I hope. But I can only hope."  
  
Obi-Wan stared hard at the exit door behind her. That door was his only means of escape. But first he had to get past her and then he had to unlock it. She would kill him before he could even stand up. He threw the thought away and the sinking feeling that he wouldn't live through the ordeal began to mercilessly taunt his heart.  
  
"You need to be alive for Marion," Aurra said, sliding a long white finger under his chin and lifting his head up towards hers. Her eyes were cold and bluish-gray, like the face of a dead man. Obi-Wan was frightened to look into them. They were the eyes of a woman who plotted revenge against the Jedi Order, who took lives without thought, who slaughtered for pleasure. What could she be planning now? "She wouldn't come for you if you were dead. Your Master would," she said as an afterthought.  
  
"He's so pathetically loyal to you he'd die for your body," she continued. Obi-Wan tried not to listen, but his eyes were caught in hers and his brain took every single word she uttered to heart. "But no, Marion agreed to my offer only if you were alive.  
  
"But she said nothing about you being... tenderized."  
  
She smiled a mirthless smile of cruelty and vengeance. Her fist came from nowhere and slammed into his jaw. He cried out in surprise and found himself lying on his side. Her boot thudded in his ribcage, painfully near his still-healing wound. He tried to scramble toward the door but she grabbed the collar of his hospital tunic and yanked him backward hard, causing the fabric to dig into his throat. Whimpering and struggling, he felt himself being pummeled with a fist and when he thought he could take it no longer she grabbed his throat, her long fingers wrapping completely around his neck. She squeezed. He strained for breath.  
  
"Lovely, isn't it?" she said, her voice soaked in careless evil. "The same thing happened to me once. I was supposed to die. Unfortunately, the Dark Woman taught me to fight back. I did. I've been doing it ever since."  
  
He was loosing consciousness rapidly. He blinked when her image blurred. She released her grip a little and made a very false concerned face.  
  
"Oh, are you scared?" she asked as she wiped at his face. He'd been crying. She dropped her act and loomed closer than ever to him, dominating his weak spirit with her powerfully evil one.  
  
"You should be."  
  
Five minutes later found Obi-Wan curled up on the floor, his hands and feet bound, his bruises throbbing with burning heat. He was alone. He was still crying.  
  
  
Aurra was a very patient woman. That was what made her so good. Or was it bad?  
  
She didn't consider herself a Dark Jedi. She was no Sith. She wasn't a fallen Jedi, either. Neither had patience. She? She would wait for hours, crumpled in the same position just so she could snipe off a specific target. Sith and Jedi weren't hunters.  
  
She was doing it now. The hunter had set a trap and all she needed were the victims. The Jedi man and the Force-adept girl. Two Force users gone. She would like to kill the boy also but she had broken him and a broken boy could make a good slave, either for keeps or for selling. Besides, if he ever showed signs of rebelling, she'd kill him, simple and sure.  
  
Now that it was night, Aurra felt most comfortable. Not that she ever felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb. Nighttime was just a time to have lots of fun.  
  
Lots and lots of fun.  
  
Her bait of the trap, the boy, was tied to a light post out in the open nearby the tracks. She gazed through her binoculars and studied his face. It was the same lost, empty look he'd had ever since she smashed him into submission. That had been fun. It felt good to vent her anger on young flesh. After all, she'd visited him in his cell at least twelve times in the last eight hours just to beat him. Around the ninth time he had began to seriously falter and she was content by the twelfth visitation.  
  
Now, she just needed two more things and the trap would snap around her Jedi prey.  
  
And here he came.  
  
  
Qui-Gon kept to the deepest of the shadows. He saw Obi-Wan was restrained against the lamppost and his instinct was to rush forward and see if he was all right. He held himself back, biting his lip in frustration. No doubt Aurra Sing or Marion Fairweather had set a trap and Obi-Wan was the bait. He had to have been, being solely illuminated by the lamp.  
  
He decided to wait and see if anything would happen.  
  
Obi-Wan did not move.  
  
  
Aurra smiled to herself. He was there. And all that was left was...  
  
Ahh, she's come.  
  
  
Marion wasn't expecting a trap at all from Aurra. She trusted that the bounty hunter would give the boy to her for a hefty sum, no questions asked. She didn't know anything about her deep hatred of the Jedi. So she wasn't expecting anything when she ventured into the exposing light toward Obi-Wan.  
  
Strange, the boy didn't look up at her when she approached. He was bruised and bloodied and stared at the ground. He looked... pitiful.  
  
She got out her vibro knife to cut the bonds. He didn't acknowledge her presence as she pressed against him to remove the ropes.  
  
"Marion," someone said form the shadows. She stood up and spun, her knife in her hand. It was Qui-Gon Jinn.  
  
They just stared at each other for a few moments. Then Qui-Gon said huskily, "I think we've walked in a trap."  
  
  
Just as Aurra pulled the trigger, the girl moved jerkily to the left, trying to look everywhere at once, so she only pegged her shoulder. Cursing at her own stupidity, she reloaded and aimed for Qui-Gon but he had seen from where the shot was fired and ducked behind. Marion lay on the ground next to Obi-Wan, stirring in pain. She wasn't worth wasting another shot on. If anything, she was in the way.  
  
*Damn*, she thought. *I should have taken out the Jedi first.*  
  
  
Obi-Wan breathed. The air tasted like smoke.  
  
  
Qui-Gon breathed hard. Something was wrong with Obi-Wan. Marion lay panting on the ground. She was hurt, shot by Aurra Sing. Qui-Gon could feel her anger. He was tempted to beat it with his own, but to do so would be to give in to the temptations of the Dark Side.  
  
The shot had come from up near the look out tower, an almost clichŽ place for a sniper to hide. Aurra Sing had probably underestimated him, but she had estimated Marion just fine. If only Marion had known that Aurra wanted to kill all Jedi and she knew she had some Force ability in her, making her a definite target.  
  
Qui-Gon figured Aurra would relocate from her position. A sniper who doesn't relocate isn't smart. Or a sniper who doesn't relocate is unusual.  
And Aurra Sing certainly qualified as being unusual.  
  
  
Marion panted against the pain that swelled in her shoulder. Her mind was reeling at the shock and agony and the epiphany that Aurra Sing was trying to kill her. The back of his mind, the part that hadn't gone blind with panic, realized that she wasn't being shot at anymore which meant one thing: Aurra Sing thought she was going to die and therefore didn't risk shooting her again to reveal her position. She began to cry.  
  
For the first time, Obi-Wan's head moved. His blue eyes, so full of sorrow and hopelessness, met hers. Something undefinealbe passed between them, something like a basic, silent understanding.  
  
The poor boy. He hadn't done anything to deserve all this. Just because he was Qui-Gon's student, not Qui-Gon himself, didn't qualify him as a target for suffering. Just because he was a Jedi, not the Jedi that had scarred her, didn't qualify him as a target for killing.  
  
Marion only had a problem with Qui-Gon, no one else. No, wait, she had a problem with Aurra Sing, the women who'd betrayed and shot her. She had to do something...  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes pleaded to hers. Then, it looked like he closed his eyes, but he was really casting them down at his utility belt. There hung his lightsaber. His eyes met hers again.  
  
*I understand.*  
  
Marion lay still, gathering her strength. A power, the kind she felt when she moved objects, almost flowed from the boy to her. He was helping her, the dear, even after she'd shot him and thrown him into this whole mess. In her mind she formed a plan and waited until her body was ready to carry it out.  
  
She waited.  
  
  
Obi-Wan breathed. His once-captor was fighting a greater evil and the best weapon of choice was the lightsaber. He'd helped her and that was all he felt he could do. He closed his eyes and had no independent thought of his own.  
  
  
Although she wasn't thinking about it, Aurra was suspecting she had screwed up somewhere, and it wasn't in shooting the girl first. It was something else, something so small she would have never guessed until it jumped up right her face and ripped her apart.  
  
After she had broken Obi-Wan, just to tease him (even though his mind couldn't understand) she put his utility belt back on his waist, along with his weapon, his lightsaber. With his mind as shattered as it was, there was no way he could think to use it.  
  
There was no danger.  
  
Absolutely none at all.  
  
  
Qui-Gon considered jumping out from behind his cover with his lightsaber ablaze, but knew that Aurra would be anticipating it. She would be ready for him. There was no way he could beat her while she had the upper hand.  
  
He decided that sneaking around toward the lookout tower would be best out of all the feeble possibilities he could formulate. He knew she would expect it but it was the only thing he could do at the moment.  
  
He barely took a step out when a blaster shot was fired, at him, probably. But he didn't feel the sting of a bolt. Marion was on her feet and a blue lightsaber was ablaze in her hands. From where Aurra Sing had been hiding there rang a cry like an angry animal that had been bitten. There was a curse in the wind, then nothing.  
  
Qui-Gon sensed the enemy had retreated. Not died, but retreated.  
  
He quickly dashed back to Marion. She swayed on her feet and Qui-Gon took her by her good shoulder.  
  
"I'm fine," she said coolly, clutching the wound with her hand.  
  
Qui-Gon was going to press the matter further, but she knelt down beside Obi-Wan, diverting Qui-Gon's attention to his Padawan. She dropped the lightsaber she'd been holding. It was Obi-Wan's. Qui-Gon decided he'd worry about it later.  
  
Murmuring words of thanks to the gods that didn't exist, Qui-Gon pulled his student close to him.  
  
  
Obi-Wan breathed. The scent of his Master reached his nostrils and a small part of his mind was put back together.  
  
"Master," he said. And his Master answered him.  
  
"I'm here, Padawan," he said. "Do not be afraid."  
  
And Obi-Wan Kenobi was not afraid.  
  
  
Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn was standing tall, but his head was drooped downward, his eyes fixed on the headstone of Aerial Fairweather. Obi-Wan Kenobi stood beside him, silent and respectful in the presence of his Master. Marion Fairweather stood on Qui-Gon's other side, her head bowed in prayer.  
  
Qui-Gon turned and left and after a moment he was joined by Obi-Wan. He was nearly fully recovered and Qui-Gon suspected a day or two off at the Temple was all he'd need to regain his full strength of body and mind once again.  
  
Then, quietly, Marion turned and followed them, keeping her distance of them. Much to his own surprise, Qui-Gon was not afraid of her and neither was Obi-Wan. The three had faced a challenge together and they had overcome it together. While they did not share affection toward each other, hate and fear no longer afflicted their relationship. They respected each other and let bygones be bygones.  
  
No charges were being pressed on the girl, though the hunt for Aurra Sing continued. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were returning to the Jedi Temple in order to recover and Aerial would stay behind on the planet of her mother. All was well, for the time being.  
  
But Qui-Gon knew Aurra Sing was still out there and her thirst for vengeance against the Jedi had no doubt violently increased because of this incident. He'd have to warn the Dark Woman and her former Padawans. They were in danger now.  
  
Navigating through the grasses, they approached the old castle's suburban village where Marion lived. She had abandoned her old black clothing in honor of her mother and adopted a velvety green stylized slacks and vestments combination. She took the lead on the dirt road, her cloak swaying softly behind her.  
  
"I don't know what I'll do know," she said, not facing them. "I've spent almost all my life dedicated to revenge, and now that it's over..."  
  
"How did you fund yourself?" Qui-Gon asked.  
  
"I took odd jobs," Marion said. "Dishwasher, mechanic... I was kind of the village gypsy. Sometimes, I can read the future, so I'd tell whoever would pay their fortunes."  
  
"That's a sign of being Force-sensitive," Qui-Gon said. "Maybe you could continue to do that."  
  
"It pays little," Marion said. "I've waited my whole life to find you, saving up what little cash I could scrape together."  
  
"Perhaps, you could do that for the Republic," Qui-Gon suggested. Marion stopped, turned around to face him, her eyes round and curious, the windows to her soul. Her shield fell over her face and she quickly asked, "What do you mean?"  
  
"There aren't many Jedi who can see the future," Qui-Gon said. "Some one with clairvoyant abilities could be very helpful to the Security Bureau."  
  
"I'm not a Jedi," she said.  
  
"All the better," Qui-Gon said. "Security officials sometimes don't trust the Jedi Order."  
  
"And why would they trust me?" she asked hotly.  
  
"Because, you're one of them," Qui-Gon said. "You are as good as a bounty hunter. You know about tracking. You know about the hunt. You know about the weapons. You are very well-informed on matters that concern them. You could go far."  
  
"Could I?" she said flatly.  
  
She studied him for a few moments. The wind played with their cloaks, ruffled Marion's hair. Her eyes met Obi-Wan's.  
  
"I'm not as good as you think," she said. "I had been aiming for your head."  
  
"If you are comparing yourself to Aurra Sing you are being foolish," Qui-Gon said. "She's killed several Jedi. She is a very dangerous foe. However, you've taught yourself everything you know. Why not keep going? What is there here that can help you? Nothing. If you want to go far, go to Coruscant. Enroll yourself in a security university. For your mother."  
  
Her eyes flashed angrily at him. "Don't speak of my mother," she said.  
  
"Do not be intimidated," Qui-Gon continued. "You'll go far," he chuckled. "You already have a ship."  
  
"Perhaps I will," she said at last, and then turned and continued on the road. After a brief pause, the Jedi followed.  
  
"Do you think she will join a security force, Master?" Obi-Wan asked quietly, so only his Master could hear.  
  
"I'm not sure," Qui-Gon said. "It's hard to change from being fixed on revenge to dedicating your life to helping others. It'd be like you having to give up being a Jedi and then become a smuggler the next day."  
  
"It'd go against all my morals," Obi-Wan said.  
  
"She's spent her life focused on hurting and to attempt the complete opposite is a hard choice. Yet, she may come through in the end."  
  
"I hope she does," Obi-Wan said. He smiled a little and his eyes twinkled. "I'd rather have her shooting bad guys than me."  
  
The End 


End file.
